How Much Do You Love Me
by princessanna990
Summary: "We have your son, Odin, and if you want him back it's gonna cost you. Ten million. Gold. So tell me, how much do you love your son, cause little Loki, here, won't be so virginal if you wait too long." Warning: rape / non-con, harsh language, and not a very happy story
1. Chapter 1

_Clunk._

The sound of hard metal falling to the ground jolted him awake. He quickly opened his eyes only to be met with darkness; nothing but the two moons above lighting his chambers.

Loki lay in bed, the rich, silk covers draped around his body as he listened for more noise. All he could hear was sound of his own soft breathing. He turned to his side, casting his gaze out his open window, looking out at the illuminated city. From this far up, he could not hear the sound of the townspeople, nor could he see them, but the view was quite breathtaking. The lights from the houses and street lamps created intricate patterns on the ground, making an almost heavenly scene.

He sighed tiredly as he had nearly forgotten what awoke him in the first place. But the noise sounded again. A second _thud_ hit the ground. This time he sat up from his bed, turning towards the door to his right. He blinked hazily, trying to adjust from the dim glow of the outside world to the pitch-black darkness of his room.

He glanced down to the crack beneath his door, completely expecting to see the shadows of the two guards posted outside his bedroom door. But there were no shadows. There was only the thin sliver of light coming from the hallway.

A thought crossed his mind of leaving his bed and making sure the guards were still there, but even before he had the chance to remove his fur blankets, a dark shadow of two feet walked across his door. The footsteps were soundless and he wouldn't have even noticed them, if he had not, in fact, been looking right at them.

The shadow stopped at the center of his door, ceasing all movement, and once again, all he could hear were his own, shaky breaths filling the room. Loki stared at the outlined shadow, not knowing what to expect. Who was there? A maid? A servant? No, of course not. It was one of the guards. It had to be. Who else would be awake at this hour? Nearly the entire city was asleep.

But then the doorknob started to jiggle. The golden bulb twisted back and forth as the mysterious person on the other side obviously tried to get in. He instantly was back on his side, his back to the door just as the anonymous man opened the wooden panel. Loki quickly shut his eyes.

The room fell silent; the only thing he could hear was the rapid thud of his heartbeat in his chest. The intruder seemed to pause before footsteps ever so softly started echoing throughout the spacious room. The footsteps came nearer, and he bit his tongue from whimpering in fear. This was no guard. The guards do not enter your personal bedchambers without your order unless a threat appears. And there had been no prior threat.

He felt the gaze of the trespasser staring down at him as the footsteps stopped right beside the bed and he tried to keep his face cool, void of emotion. He had no concept of how long it had been before he felt a weight push down on his mattress. Either common sense or terror rushing in his brain told him to keep his eyes shut as he felt a calloused hand come to the side of his face.

The hand was warm and large, much like a worker in the fields would have, or so he presumed. He had never actually socialized with a worker before. But he had seen them before form the windows of the palace, working diligently in the plant. The prince often admired their vigor with such a tireless job, and he knew it was not easy. The men that worked in the fields were large, defined men, with meaty thick arms and a stare that could kill if you got in their bad side. His older brother, Thor, could have been a worker if he had not been born into the royal blood.

The strong hand stroked some of Loki's loose ebony hair behind his ear before it came down and caressed his jawline. This was when he opened his eyes. He twisted his head to look at the intruder, not expecting to suddenly have the man's rough hand cover his mouth and push him flat on the bed.

Loki shrieked in surprise, his hands coming up to hit at the large man on top of him. But his blows seemed to have little to no effect on his attacker as the hefty man brought a finger up to his dry lips, signing to be quiet. He didn't know why, but he listened to the man. He stopped his cries of fear, which were being muffled anyway, and he brought his hands back down to lie at his sides.

The man smiled at his compliance and removed the hand from his mouth. This was the first time he actually had the chance to look at the man. From what he could tell from the darkened room, the man was big. Like _working in a coal mine_ big. The man was very muscly and tan, his eyes some dark shade, matching the color of the knotted hair atop his head. He was wearing simple clothing, something the average citizen might wear, which was unusual for someone to wear in the palace. Even the stable boys wore nicer garments.

The man stared into the prince's eyes for a moments passing before the larger man let out a breath of awe. "You're more beautiful in person."

At this he ruffled his eyebrows in confusion, obviously baffled at what was happening and if this was truly real or just a wild dream instead. He wanted to speak, to tell this strange man to leave, to get out of his room, to get out of the palace, but nothing came. His usual witty mind and silver tongue failed. All he could do was lay beneath the man as he started to caress his face once more.

"You are perfect." The strange man stated with a sigh. "So perfect."

Loki was really now becoming scared of this man. He wasn't sure if it was his mind playing tricks on him from his lack of sleep, but he could feel his body trembling beneath his attacker, scared of what will transpire next. And, much to his dismay, it only got worse.

The man leaned down until his coarse lips met the soft, fare skin of the prince and kissed it softly. The lips then moved right next to the trembling boy's ear and nibbled softly on the lobe. "You're too perfect to pass up." He whispered as he let go of the Loki's ear only to kiss his neck instead. "I'll just have to take you with me."

And that's when Loki heard the loud crack of his head being hit before he drowned into blackness.


	2. Chapter 2

Loki woke to darkness. Pitch black darkness. There was a harsh clacking sound accompanied with sudden jerky movements, forcing his body this way and that. He tried to open his eyes, but found there was something wrapped around his head, ensuring to keep his eyes closed.

The next thing Loki noticed was the smell. An awful scent of body odor mixed with alcohol swirled in the air making him feel sick and nauseous. He shook his head, trying to rid his senses of the obnoxious smell and took a moment to apprehend his current situation.

He was lying down on something cold and hard, probably metal. Some type of cloth was around his eyes, and he was bound at his hands, feet, and mouth. By the jerky movements and what he could only guess to be horse hooves, he was in a cart of sorts. Alright, so far this didn't sound too good.

Loki blocked out everything and tried to concentrate. What happened? Where was he? Why is he here? He thought back to the last thing he could remember. He remembered waking up in the night, but not why he awoke. He remembered feeling scared and alone. No! None of this was helping!

He concentrated even harder, pushing past the new throbbing coming from the back of his head. A man- a man came into his room and- and what? Why was the man there? Why couldn't he remember the man's face?

A sudden bump jerked Loki from his thoughts. He took a deep breath, calming his frantic heartbeat and attempted to sit up when immediately he felt a hand on his chest, roughly pushing him back down. "Hey!" A heavily accented voice shouted above him. "The little one's up!"

Loki heard a scuffling of movement around him, the hand still holding him down. "How d'ya know?" Another man spoke with the same accent but in a much deeper voice.

"Cause he just tried to get up! I saw 'em with my own two eyes!" The first man responded. So far, Loki could only tell there were two people in the cart with him, both male. He recognized the first man, by his voice, as the one who had invaded his bedchambers in the middle of the previous night- or was it still the same night? How long had he been out? Minutes? Hours? Days?

"Take off that blindfold." The second man ordered, his voice filled with curiosity and Loki soon felt two hands come to the side of his face. He instinctively jerked away from the touch, his bound hands coming up in defense. The two hands were strong, though, and they managed to force Loki's hands down and pull of his blindfold in one swift movement.

The fabric around Loki's eyes was yanked away, and he felt a cold breeze wash over his face, sending chills down his spine. He opened his eyes to the now recognizable face of the man whom had broken into his room. The man was smiling ridiculously, his face barely an inch above Loki's.

"Morning, pretty boy." The man spoke, his rank breathe spewing all over Loki's face, making the prince recoil in disgust. Despite the man taking up most of his view, Loki identified that he, indeed, was in a carriage. The dirty cart was dark and without windows, still leaving him to guess if it was night or day.

"What da we do?" The second man spoke from behind Loki, still remaining out of the prince's view.

"I dunno." The man above Loki answered, never taking his eyes off the prince. "Nothing, I guess."

A silence followed, the only sound being the squeaking of the cart and the hooves of the horses. Out of nowhere, the man atop Loki suddenly pecked him on the cheek, earning a surprised squeak form the prince. If his mouth had not been bound, Loki surely would have cursed and shouted at these strangers to tell him what was happening!

Annoyingly, both men found this funny and began to chuckle at the prince's obvious uneasiness. "Don't worry, pretty boy." The second man spoke as the man on top of Loki began stroking the side of his face. "We ain't gonna kill ya." Somehow, that didn't make him feel any better.

Loki eyes popped open and he began to squirm uncomfortably under the heavy man's weight as he heard a knife being pulled from its sheath. A thousand scenarios of what could happen raced through his mind, none of them ending well.

The second man stood and walked into the prince's view, a large, jagged knife in one hand. "But that don't mean we ain't gonna mark ya pretty skin."

The caressing hand of the man on top of Loki suddenly gripped viciously onto his neck, fingers digging into his vulnerable throat. Loki attempted to scream and once again tried to bring up his hands to claw at his attacker, but his arms were pinned to his chest by the man's body.

The man with the knife knelt down on one knee, the sharp blade coming uncomfortably close to Loki's face. The second man wore that same sick smile as the first, both of them looking like delusional maniacs.

All air was cut off from Loki's lungs leading to a dark fuzziness beginning to take root at the edges of his vision. He knew if he did not get air soon, he would pass out and then who knows what would happen to him.

Just as the blackness was about to consume him, the first man let go of the hold around his neck. Loki desperately gasped for air the best he could through the dirty rag in his mouth, making the men laugh at him again. Tears had come to his eyes, but from what, Loki could not say. He was terrified and humiliated. Why were these men laughing at him? What did they want from him? Where in all the nine realms was he?

Loki didn't have much time to think as the second man moved the knife to rest on his pointed cheekbone. The prince's heart nearly stopped in his chest as the knife was gently pulled up to bottom of his left under-eye. The man began humming softly as he trailed the knife up and over Loki's forehead and down to his right cheek.

Loki nearly burst into tears as both men smiled down at him, watching him intently. He wanted to cry. He wanted to make this all go away. He wanted to be home with his family, his brother. He didn't want this. He didn't want to be surrounded by unfamiliar people in an unfamiliar place with a sharp knife gliding over his face, having the ability to cut into his skin at any moment.

And as if reading his thoughts, the cart suddenly jolted to a stop, causing the knife to slice down Loki's cheek. He shrieked out in pain as he felt his flesh tearing under the jagged blade.

"Shit!" The second man cursed, the knife immediately removed from the prince's face and tossed to the side.

"Uh oh." The first man said under his breath, his eyes going wide in realization. "Boss ain't gonna like that." The man rolled off of Loki, his eyes flicking to the second man.

"What we gonna do?" The second man helplessly shouted, his hands hovering over Loki, not sure of what to do.

"We?" The first man hissed back. "This is your fault! This ain't no we!"

The second man jumped to his feet, his hands tightly clenched in balls. If Loki had not been already scared, he sure would have been now. The second man held a look of pure hatred and a stare ready to kill. Just as he was about to open his mouth and shout out profanities, the door to the cart suddenly broke open.

Both men whipped their heads to look at the open door, their previous dispute entirely forgotten. Loki tried to lift his throbbing head to get a better look, but he could not see past the legs of the men.

"What's all the fuss about?" He heard a new angry voice shout. A third man, to which Loki guessed the voice belonged to, climbed into the carriage, his body build much larger than the other two men. He had a large, ugly scar across his left eyebrow drawing attention away from his yellow, gapped teeth.

The two men who had previously been laughing at Loki were now quickly rambling explanations to the new man. The new man didn't seem to listen or pay much attention to their excuses as his eye locked on the shivering Loki.

The man's mouth fell open as he crouched down to Loki's level. A beat of silence filled the cart, no one talking, not that Loki could anyway. The man reached a hand out towards the prince who, for the first time, actually had the ability to sit up and scuffle away.

Loki violently shook his head as he continued to crawl away from the men, a few unintentional whimpers escaping his throat. His back hit the wall and Loki had never felt more trapped. Three foreign men were gazing at him, and they obviously did not have good intentions.

The new third man moved to where Loki was trembling against the wall and put an arm right next to the prince's head, ensuring Loki could not escape. The man stared down at Loki, taking in all his features. The man's faint smile soon turned into a prominent scowl. He roughly gripped onto Loki's chin, forcing the prince to look up. "What's this?" He growled angrily, turning Loki's head to the side.

Loki winced at the stinging pain as the man trailed his calloused thumb over the bleeding cut on his cheek. "It was an accident, sir." One of the other men answered. Loki could not see who, though. But frankly he didn't care. He was a little preoccupied with the large man inspecting his cheek. "We was only trying to scare him." The man ruffled his eyebrows as he tilted Loki's face this way and that. The prince jerked his face away from the man, which earned him a hard slap to the cheek, loud enough to echo throughout the small cart.

"You do **not** pull away from me!" The man shouted, scaring Loki enough to curl into himself, hiding his face from view. He heard the man in front of him stand and move away, but Loki did not lift his head from the safety of his arms. They weren't really there; nothing could hurt him if he couldn't see it.

"Bring him out." He heard the third man order and immediately after he heard various footsteps rushing around. Loki closed his eyes, fear overwhelming him. He hoped that if he stayed still enough, if he could be quiet enough, he would disappear. He wouldn't be here. He would be back in the palace. Back where it is safe. But his fantasy was nothing but that, a fantasy. Loki soon felt hands grabbing him all over, pulling him up and away. He began screeching and screaming, flailing and kicking, trying anything to get the hands to let go of him.

A fist was landed in his stomach causing him to gasp in pain. He was punched again, and again, and again, till he was nothing but a shuddering limp form in their grasp. The hands moved to hold him under his arms, pulling him forward, not caring his bare feet dragged on the floor.

Loki was carried out of the cart, into some sort of damp, cold room. The hands held him still as the third man approached him again. The man yanked on Loki's hair, forcing the prince to look up at him threw pain filled eyes. "The Boss is gonna like this pretty boy." The man smirked, before letting go of Loki's hair and looking to the men holding him. "He'll make a nice whore."


	3. Chapter 3

Loki didn't know how long he had been there. Waiting. In the cold, damp dark. He had been dragged down empty hallways, reeking of all different repulsive smells, some of which he did not recognize and some he knew all too well. Blood. Vomit. Decaying flesh.

He was then led into a room. No lights. No windows. Nothing but pitch-black darkness. The men holding him tossed him onto the ground, snickering when he groaned in pain. They left him, locking the heavily bolted steel door behind them. And then he was _all alone_.

Loki didn't know what was worse. Being surrounded by strange, scary men with knives or sitting completely abandoned in darkness, left with nothing but your thoughts to keep sane.

He tried to keep track of time; counting the seconds, minutes. But the numbers started to bleed together, turning minutes into days. Days into years. Everything was numb. The ringing in his ears would not stop and he began screaming just to fill the silence. Anything but the silence.

He thought maybe if he could see, things would be better. Maybe he wouldn't feel so trapped. He climbed to his knees, spreading his hands out in front of him, searching the floor for something. Anything.

He crawled forward till he came to a wall. A spark of hope lit inside him, filling him with some sense of relief. A wall. There was a wall. That means he was, in fact, in a room, not just in empty space, wandering aimlessly until he died.

He had nearly forgotten why he was here in the first place, his memories a fuzzy blur. But he could remember one thing. His name was Loki. _He was __Loki_. He retracted into himself, his chin coming down to his knees as he curled up against the wall, the only thing he knew.

He hid his face in his knees, tears long dried out, as he silently sobbed to himself, "_I am Loki. I am Loki. I am Loki_." He repeated the phrase as if under a spell, his dry voice cracking under the strain. But even if he could not remember anything, he knew, with all his heart, **he** was Loki.

OOOOO

A vociferous creak jolted Loki awake. But when did he fall asleep? Was he even asleep or was it his mind deceiving him again. Many times he had thought he died, any many times he awoke to realize he wasn't. Loki had never felt so disappointed and utterly heartbroken in all his life. Was death too much to ask? Did only the privileged deserve something as peaceful as death?

A dim light broke through the darkness making the prince recoil into the shadows. Light. He had nearly forgotten what such a thing was. He shielded his eyes, the dim light casting such a drastic change than what he was used to.

He heard something moving. Moving towards him. Footsteps, right? Is that what they were called? The loud _tap, tap _came closer and closer until Loki felt the presence of another staring down at him. Suddenly something was touching him, pulling him away. Away from the wall. Loki violently screamed, his hands reaching out for the wall, his only friend, as he was pulled away.

He felt a blow come to the back of his head, momentarily stunning him long enough to be dragged out of the reclusive room and into the hallway. Loki tried to get away, but found his efforts useless as the hands of his captors restrained him. Damn his weak body. Never good enough. Never strong enough. Always frail and pathetic.

Instead of trying to fight, Loki rather chose to intake as much of his surroundings as he could. Be smart and get out of here. If he didn't have strength to rely on, he always had his mind.

Loki looked around, taking mental note of everything. The tunnel he currently was in wasn't great in length; no more than ninety yards and the walls were short, seven feet at the most. The hallway had no doors, no openings, just stones making up the structure.

From the evidence of not a single window and the scent of moist dirt, Loki decoded that he was underground, most likely a ways from the city of Asgard. The city had pipes, and sewers running beneath it, not creepy secret tunnels.

Torches were hung on both sides of the hallway every few feet, supplying the dingy place with its only source of light, so there had to be an opening near by that was feeding fresh air into the tunnel. Good. That means there was a way to escape. Escape to _freedom_.

But from what Loki could see, there was no such opening. Just the tunnel that suddenly stopped. The only room being the one he was just previously in.

As they were approaching the end of the tunnel, the two men holding Loki stopped, one of them letting him go. The prince lazily turned his head to the side, watching as the man fumbled with a ring of keys, finally coming upon the one he was looking for, an unusual shaped rod of metal with random points sticking out of it. The man turned towards the wall and pushed the oddly shaped key into one of the many cracks in the wall.

The wall groaned as the man twisted the key, turning it completely around. The wall shook violently as loose pebbles and dust began to fall, clouding their vision. Loki coughed as he breathed in the polluted air, but the two men on either side of him seemed unfazed.

When the dust cleared, an open passage way was revealed. For the first couple feet it was dark, but, in what seemed to be in the center of the room, there was a large opening in the ceiling, letting radiant beams of moonlight shine down. This room was obviously much larger than his previous cell, for the whines of the wall opening still echoed throughout the room. The ceiling was also much taller, depleting any hopes the prince had of climbing out.

Loki only had a moment to take it all in before he was dragged through the opening in the wall. The two men gripping onto his shoulders threw him roughly to the ground, making Loki land with a thud, his hands futilely trying to catch himself. His palms scraped against the jagged rock, instantly producing a noticeable hiss from the prince.

The two men turned around and left between the 'door' they entered through, the wall closing itself back up. For a moment Loki felt a fear bubble inside of him. The fear of being left alone. Not again. He could not just be thrown in another dark room all alone **again**! No, this was not happening.

Loki hastily climbed to his feet, ignoring the persistent stinging of his hands. He looked over the room, not being able to see anything except for the ground directly under the open ceiling. Subconsciously, Loki took a deep breath, relishing the smell of fresh air, no matter how little there was. The hole in the ceiling was large; large enough for four men to walk through, but the cieling was high enough to not fill the entire room with the much-needed breeze.

Loki looked up into the starry sky as he inched closer to the illuminated section on the ground, being careful not to make any sudden movement. He didn't know where he was. Someone could be here. Or something.

Loki's eyes quickly, but thoroughly studied every shinning star in the sky he could see, desperately scanning his mind to find matching constellations that would give him some sort of idea of where he was. Yes! Loki actually felt a smile grace his lips as he saw three twinkling stars. To anyone else, they would have been nothing but that, three stars. But to him, they were like a prominent message in the sky.

The three stars created a single triangle in the sky, nothing special. Billions of stars could form triangles, but no. These stars were special. One of them shone with a green hue, the two other were larger than average, developing a more than normal site.

Many a night Loki had been confined to the palace grounds, forbidden to leave without supervision, for fear he would be attacked or surrounded with buzzing questions by the people. He was famous, after all. Being locked up had anger him greatly. Stupid parents. He could handle himself. But as it had turned out, he should thank them. As a result of the multiple nights in his room, Loki had gazed upon the stars above the city, mentally mapping each and every one of them. And it's because of that; Loki now knew he was still in Asgard. Thank the Norns!

Those three stars. So little. So unnecessary to the universe were now the most important thing in Loki's life. They gave him hope. Hope to go back to his family. He swore, right then and there, that if he ever had the graces of seeing his family again he would never try and leave the palace again. He would never lie or deceive them. He would be good, do everything he was told and be the perfect model of a prince. Just only if he could get home.

Home. The thought sent an unpleasant churning throughout the prince's body. Oh how he wished none of this ever happened. He just wanted to be home. And that's where he was going to be. Loki shook his head, ridding his mind of all negative thoughts, and instead focusing on how to get out of the frightening place.

He looked around again, hoping to find a door, a ladder, anything. But just as expected there was nothing. He could hardly see five feet into the darkness and that scared him even more. How big was this room? Was it even a room? Or did the darkness never end? No! Stop! Concentrate!

Loki turned his attention back to the gap in the ceiling above. He considered shouting for help. Maybe someone was outside and could help him. He quickly decided against it as he felt the dryness of his throat and cracking of his lips. He was severely dehydrated. Yelling could do permanent damage to his voice.

But right now, it was his only option. Loki swiped a dry tongue over his chapped lips before he croaked, "Hel-" Loki stopped immediately as he felt his voice crack under the strain. He swallowed the thick, sticky saliva in his throat, and tried again, this time louder. "Help! Please!"

His voice echoed off the walls, sending eerie chills down his spine. He sounded so desperate. So broken. But that wasn't even the worse part. The worse part was when he heard a dark, sadistic voice answer back, "No one will be able to hear you, my love."

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	4. Chapter 4

"No one will be able to hear you, my love." The sickly sweet voice rung, seeming to come from nowhere and everywhere at once. Loki's heart skipped in his chest, his eyes snapping from the starry sky above to the darkened room. He hastily searched for the source of the voice.

"Who?" Loki squeaked out, his hands beginning to tremble. He repeatedly blinked his eyes, becoming frustrated when they weren't adjusting to the cold darkness. "Who is there?"

A moment of silence passed when nothing happened, causing Loki to question if he even heard anything in the first place. Was he hearing things? Things he was afraid were true? Ha! This was it! He had truly lost his mind. Making up voices in his head! That is the definition of crazy.

But then the voice spoke again, crisp and chilling. "Someone who likes to play dirty." It whispered right behind him. Loki speedily spun around, expecting to see a man. But there was nothing there. Nothing but empty air. His eyes wildly searched through the darkness, looking for any sign of life. Any sign he wasn't alone.

"And you, my prince," The voice echoed, making it impossible to pinpoint where it was coming from. Loki slowly turned around, fear starting to overrun his logical thinking. He clenched his hands into fists, ready to fight; that is what his instructor taught him. Never be unprepared for a fight. "Will help me achieve that."

"Show your face!" Loki yelled into the empty blackness, his voice echoing off the walls. In response, a deep chuckle radiated through the room, laughing at him, sending an unnerving shiver down his spine. Loki's entire body was now trembling with fright as he tried to calculate all the possible endings to the current situation.

Seemingly out of nowhere a man appeared, stepping into the light. A tall man, big and broad. Loki's eyes locked on the strange man, his breath momentarily catching in his throat. The man had tangled brown curls on top of his head, falling just past his ears, pointing out his pearl grey eyes. His face was square and tan, looking much like the intruder who had captured Loki in the first place. "Now, now, darling." The man tisked, taking a few steps towards the prince. "You're in no place to be making demands."

Loki's muscles tensed, leaving him frozen to where he stood as he watched the man gaze down at him, being quite a few inches taller. The man smirked, giving a sound of approval before he drew his hands behind his back and began circling around the prince.

"Yet, you chose to obey the command I had given." Loki dubiously confided behind his mask of calmness. But truly, he was terrified, nervous, wishing for anything but to be here with this man.

The man abruptly stopped his pace, fiercely grabbing the prince's chin and forcing him to look up. "You've got a smart mouth on you, boy." The man seethed between a clenched jaw, his grip becoming tighter and tighter, almost making Loki cry out in pain. Almost.

Loki scowled at the name, jerking his face out of the man's rough embrace. "I am no boy."

"Oh?" The man laughed, pulling his hands behind his back once more. "Than what are you? A man?" The man's voice was dripping with sarcasm and mockery. Just the look of smugness on his face told Loki that this man was one step ahead of him, and it irritated Loki. No one **ever** outsmarted Loki. He was known for his cunningness. But this man… This man knew what he was doing.

Loki's frown remained on his face as he confidently straightened his back, "I am a prince. The prince of Asgard."

Loki wasn't even sure if the man heard him at all, for the man seemed too preoccupied with the cut on his cheek. Loki had entirely forgotten the wound and he was almost certain it had to be nearly healed by now. But the man seemed very perplexed by it, never taking his eyes off it as he let out a low growl. "Who did this?"

Loki furrowed his eyebrows, determined not to answer. He would give this man no satisfaction, even if it was something as simple as answering a question. The man suddenly grabbed him by his shoulder, harshly shaking him back and forth. "Who did this!" He shouted. Loki bit his tongue, willing himself to not lash out and strike the man.

The man voiced his frustration with a shout before pushing Loki away. He turned away from the prince, grumbling something under his breath that Loki could not hear. Suddenly, an idea seemed to dawn upon him as his eyes alit, the corners of his mouth turning up. He turned back to Loki. "You know, it doesn't matter." He said far too happily, a hand waving off to the side. "A couple scratches will go for a better show."

"Show?" Loki mumbled, his face twisting in confusion.

"Oh yes," The man laughed, his hands coming together in front of him. "You, my little dear, are the star of the show!" Before Loki even knew what was happening, the man shouted orders into the darkness and three men walked into the light, grabbing him and forcing him onto his knees. One of the men pulled out a knife, making sure to wave the blade tauntingly in front of Loki.

"Now hush up, dear. We can't have you blabbing and ruining the whole thing." The leader stated, before turning away to face into the darkness. Loki quickly looked around, examining his situation. Three men were around him, two holding him down, and one standing behind him with a knife. The man who he was previously speaking with, whom he guessed to be the leader, was now facing into the darkness, away from Loki.

"Odin!" The leader cheered, holding his arms out in welcome. "How nice it is to talk with you." At the name of Odin, Loki shouted out, jerking away from his captors, attempting to get a look at his father. Why would Father be here? But that doesn't matter. Father _was_ here! And that means Father would free him! Let him come home!

Rough hands painfully gripped him, pulling him back to his place at their feet. Loki stilled his struggle as the knife came around to rest on his neck, ensuring to slice his throat if he tried anything like that again.

"My name is Kortt, Leader of Fugitives, King of the Shadows. And as you can see," Kortt continued, taking a half step to the side, a hand pointing back to Loki.

Loki felt his eyes go wide as he saw it. His father wasn't here, but in his place was a camera. He swallowed the lump in his throat when he noticed the little green light flashing on the side of the camera. It was recording. _This was the show._ "We have your precious little prince."

Kortt walked over to Loki, choosing to stand next to the kneeling prince. Loki snarled up at the man, but could do nothing as the knife pressed harder into his neck. "Because of **you**," Kortt suddenly shouted into the camera, making Loki flinch. "Because of **your** taxes, we have been forced to starve, eating dirt like beasts!"

Loki closed his eyes, as he finally, after so long, knew what was going on. He had read books with things like this. This was a tradeoff. And he was the bargain. But the books always ended well. The hostages were freed and continued to live their lives, while the bad guys went to prison. He should be relieved. Father and Mother love him, and will do anything in their power to get him back safely.

But Loki couldn't get that whisper of doubt out of the back of his mind. The whisper that promised Father wouldn't free him. Father didn't love him. He would be stuck here, in this cave, forever.

A gentle hand to the side of his face woke Loki from his thoughts, his eyes snapping open to see Kortt smiling down at him. Loki wanted to punch him. Kick him. Bite him. Something! Anything to hurt this man who sent unpleasant shivers down his spine. But he couldn't. Not with that stupid blade against his throat.

Kortt's smile only widened as he saw Loki's frustration. "We have your son, Odin," He spoke, his hand never leaving the prince's face. "And if you want him back it's gonna cost you. Ten million. Gold." Gold? That's what this was about? Money? Hope engulfed Loki. Surely he would go home now! If the scenery had not been so tense, Loki would have felt the urge to laugh. Of course Father would give this man gold in exchange for his youngest son! Money was nothing. It was replaceable!

"So tell me, how much do you love your son?" Kortt looked back down to Loki, that damned smile still on his lips. "'Cause little Loki, here, won't be so virginal if you wait too long." With that, the little green light changed to red, signaling the end of the video.

Virginal? What did he mean by that? He wasn't thinking about.. No! Of course not! But what else could he mean? Oh gods. Loki felt a wave of nausea wash over him as the meaning of Kortt's threat dawned upon him. "Money?" Loki immediately spat, ever so slightly moving away from the leader's caressing hand. "All this is for gold?"

Kortt laughed, his hand finally moving away from Loki's cheek. "Oh yes." He nodded, as he turned away from the prince, his attention coming to the men holding Loki. "You know where to take him." Kortt dryly stated, but his face still held that color of amusement. "But first, give him a wash."

The men began to move, at their leader's orders, pulling Loki to his feet. He growled at their roughness but could do nothing about it, settling to just sending death glares at all of them. "I want him to be nice and clean before I get to play with my new toy." Kortt said with a wink, his voice dropping down low, making him sound far too seductive.

Loki immediately began struggling against the hands holding him. "Let me go, you bastard!" He shouted at Kortt as he was led through the darkness to a door he had not known was there. "Let me go!"

Loki was dragged, kicking and screaming, through many hallways and doors until finally he was dropped onto cold stone marble. The three men laughed when Loki smacked his head against the stone, making him groan as his senses became muffled. One of the men stepped forward, kicking the prince's side, ordering, "Take off your clothes, slut."

**Alright. This chapter sucks. I know. It was just hard for me to right. I don't know why. But it will get better. I promise. I have already planned the rest of the story, so it should go smoother.**


	5. Chapter 5

It was all a bit fuzzy from the hit he had taken to the back of his head, but he was thankful of that. That way he didn't have to concentrate as Kortt's men stripped of his clothes, which once were of royal quality but were now nothing but beaten, dirt covered rags. Two of the men pulled him to his feet as the third stood by the door, knife still in hand.

Loki flinched as water began pouring down on his naked body. He had not seen how the water appeared nor did he care; he was too distracted by the contrast the icy water created against his skin, sending unpleasant shivers all throughout his body. The men continued to talk to him, their voices low and full of impure suggestions, as their large hands roughly washed his body with a scented perfume Loki had recognized to be very expensive. Where did they get a perfume of great expense if what they needed was money? And more importantly, why would they waste such a precious thing on him?

It seemed as if the men washing him had no grasp of personal space, for their hands roamed everywhere; down his chest, between his thighs, even going as far as to wash between the cheeks of his backside. They made crude jokes and statements, commenting on Loki's private parts and making bets on how talented he was in bed. One of the men even grabbed Loki's member and tried to get an arousal out of him, but he had no success. The cold water and fear kept Loki from feeling any pleasure from the men. And during the whole of this, all Loki could do was whimper and silently beg the men to finish.

And it seemed like an eternity until the two men did. The water was turned off and a large cloth was draped around him, dabbing the water that remained on his skin. The prince's entire body trembled from both the cold water and fear as the men finished drying him. They tossed the towel out of the way and pushed him out of the room.

Loki was led into a much more spacious room, the size close to that of his bedroom back in the palace. He only had a moment to take in his surroundings, a square room with a large bed big enough for three grown men, a few side tables and chairs, and a fireplace, before he was forced away into what he guessed was some sort of closet.

Hundreds of finely made clothes all hung up neatly on straight racks lined the walls, giving off a very regal feeling. Confusion began to bubble in the back of Loki's mind as he was told to stand still in the center of the closet. From everything he had seen so far, Kortt didn't need money. He had expensive perfumes, a lavish bedchamber, and strikingly well made clothing. But just a few hours before, Loki had been in a dungeon with rocks and dirt and bugs. Was all that fake? Were those just props for Kortt's "_show_?"

Loki was handed a pile of clothing, ordered to dress himself. He stared at the clothes in his hands for a moment, debating whether to put on the garbs or remain naked. The clothes had consisted of dark leather pants (which, Loki could tell, would be skintight revealing _everything)_, a black mesh long sleeve shirt, and two black cuffs. "What are these?" Loki asked, holding up to two cuffs for the men to see.

"Oh, you'll find out real soon." The man with the knife smiled, his two companions laughing with him.

Loki swallowed nervously as he hesitantly, but quickly began dressing himself. He started with the pants, stepping into each leg whole and, with much difficulty, started to slide them up his legs. "Wait!" One of the men said, causing Loki to stop his actions and glance up at him questioningly. "Do it slower." The man seductively ordered, sending a knowing ache to Loki's stomach.

But Loki complied, purposefully making his movements relax as he continued to pull the leather up to his waist. There was no button or zipper to hold the pants in place, but there was no need, for just as the prince presumed, the pants were like a second layer of skin, hugging every curve and corner of his legs.

Once the pants were in place, Loki bent down to pick up the mesh shirt, earning a wolf whistle from one of the men and a shout of approval from the other two. He closed his eyes in embarrassment as he pulled the shirt over his head, and quickly reached for the cuffs, quickly turning around to face the men. "I do not know the purpose of these." He softly stated, his eyes looking to the soft-carpeted floor.

The man with the knife handed the blade to one of his companions, stepping forward until his body was but an inch away from the prince. Loki was a good four inches smaller than the man, giving the man a much more intimidating appearance. "You don't need to know." The man quietly smirked as he snatched one of Loki's small wrists in his hand and securing the metal cuff around the prince's flesh. He did the same with the other wrist before he snaked a hand around Loki's waist, pulling their bodies together.

The prince let out an unexpected noise of surprise as the man, never breaking eye contact, began roaming his hands over Loki's backside, firmly squeezing and pinching. Loki immediately began struggling, trying to twist out of the man's firm grip and to get those groping hands off him.

"Uh, Etyn," One of the men weakly called out, making the man fondling Loki momentarily stop. "I don't think the Boss is gonna like that." The man, whom now Loki realized was called Etyn, scowled his response, before removing his hands from Loki's waist and trailing them up to rest on his shoulder's instead.

"You ain't gonna tell him are ya?" Etyn sweetly smiled down at Loki, his expression obviously trying too hard to be innocent. Loki ceased his struggling, but he didn't hide the angry frown taking over his face. He didn't answer but instead chose to spit in Etyn's face, making the man shout in anger and roughly push him away. Loki barely managed to catch his balance before he hit the ground.

Etyn wiped the saliva off his face before he angrily stomped out of the closet, grumbling something to the other men before he left. The two men then turned to look at Loki before quickly grabbing him and pulling him back out into the large bedroom. They pushed him onto the bed before they turned and excited the room, leaving Loki all alone.

He sat on the large bed for a moment, comprehending everything that had just happened, before he looked around the room, this time taking in more detail. There was a good-sized bowl on one of the side tables, a folded cloth beside it. A few decorations filled the room, mostly consisting of intricately designed vases, leather bound books, and scented wax candles. The candles had been previously lit and the aura they gave off was very alluring.

But one thing in the room caught Loki's eye. A painting of a man hung above the mantle of the fireplace. The man seemed to be of high importance, for he was wearing many badges and medallions pinned to his overcoat. Loki felt himself move off the bed, his bare feet coming in contact with the floor as he stepped towards the portrait.

He didn't know why, but Loki felt as if he recognized this man. He walked closer to the painting until he was standing directly in front of it, speedily shifting through his memories in hope of finding some answer as to who this man was.

"That's my father." A sudden voice came, making Loki rapidly spin around, surprise written all over his face. Kortt stood in the doorway, his eyes looking at the painting above the prince. "He was a good man." Kortt stated sadly as he moved into the room, closing the door and hearing it _click_ behind him. Kortt momentarily eyes the prince before stating, "Those clothes look good on you. Very appealing."

Loki didn't answer for his heart was beating heavily in his chest from the scare. He watched his captor move across the room, taking off his metal chest plate and a few hidden daggers the prince had not known were there, and laying them on a table. Loki found himself at an inability to speak, his tongue going dry. He stood frozen to his spot as he continued to watch Kortt.

"You know," Kortt began, grabbing a pitcher and pouring two cups of golden liquid. "I think it was incredibly terrible of your father to keep you locked up in that palace." He grabbed the two cups and began walking over Loki, a smile playing at his lips. "Beautiful things are meant to be shared, not kept hidden." He stopped in front of Loki, his hand offering the cup to the prince. "Here, drink."

Loki eyed the glass cup cautiously, before hesitantly reaching out and grabbing the offering. "What is it?" Loki asked, as he sniffed a sour bitter smell from the contents of his drink.

"Ale. It's good. I promise." Promise or not, Loki didn't trust this man. Kortt could try to poison him. Or drug him. And Loki didn't know which would be worse. He looked up to Kortt, a small scowl of disinterest on his face.

"I am not of age to be drinking ale." Loki defiantly said, holding out the cup for Kortt to take. But he didn't take it. The man only scowled back, his grip tightening on his cup.

"Ah, but I am just showing good hospitality to my guest." His face showed anger, which did not match his obviously fake happy and airy voice. Kortt took a step closer to the prince, his hand threateningly coming up to rest around the back of Loki's neck. "Drink it."

Kortt's threat was clear, and Loki found himself at a standpoint. Should he drink the ale? Who knows what could be in it! But on the other hand, there could be nothing in it and Kortt really was just being "nice."

The prince eyed the drink wearily before he slowly began lifting the cup to his lips. He could feel the taller man's intense gaze on him as he tipped the cup up, allowing some of the liquid into his mouth. The drink immediately began to burn on his tongue but he forced himself to swallow, the fire going all the way down his throat. With watery eyes, he looked back up to Kortt, hoping to have satisfied the man.

"All of it." Was all Kortt said, his tone dead serious. Loki mournfully lifted the cup again; downing the rest of his drink in one gulp, knowing full well the burning would only intensify. "There." Kortt smiled as he quickly drank his cup, his hand pulling away from Loki's neck and coming down to pat on his shoulder. "Was that so bad?"

Loki glared up at the taller man, his disapproval quite obvious. "What was in it?" He seethed out, a nervous feeling taking root in his stomach. He could have just swallowed poison, leading to his absolute death. But why would Kortt kill him? He needed him as hostage, right? For money? You can't have a dead hostage.

Kortt chuckled softly as he snatched the glass from Loki's hands, turning away and walking back over to the table. "Just a little something to help you have as much fun as I will."

Loki furrowed his eyebrows at the answer before he gulped tensely. All to soon he realized what was happening. He felt the hot sensation of blood rushing to his member and the sudden desire to be touched. "What did you-" Loki gasped out as his head began to spin. His entire body throbbed with the wanting need to be caressed, kissed, fondled.

"Shh." Kortt hushed, as he quickly made his way over to Loki, his hands picking up the disoriented prince before he could fall and hurt himself. Loki sharply inhaled as the two hands touched him. Kortt carried the prince to the bed and carefully laid him down. He gathered Loki's metal-cuffed wrists and pulled them above the prince's head, clasping them the metal chains attached to the headboard before whispering into the prince's ear, "I'm your new daddy and I'll take real good care of you."

**Please leave a review. I love hearing from you guys!**


	6. Chapter 6

Loki was settled down on the bed, his hands bound above his head before he fully realized what was happening. It was quite obvious now that his superstitions were correct and he had, in fact, been drugged. His head was spinning and an odd, warm feeling bubbled beneath his skin; a longing, an ache to be touched. Kortt climbed on top of the boy, whispering something in his ear before he began planting soft little kisses all along the prince's neck.

"Everything was fake." Loki suddenly declared; ignoring whatever the man was doing to his body. "The dungeon, the cave, everything." Loki suddenly gasped as teeth sunk into his neck, little dots of blood blooming on his perfect skin. "It was all fake." A kiss was allotted on top of the prince's new wound, an inadvertent shiver racing through his veins.

"Good." Kortt praised, his enticing voice laced with insulting amusement. "Smart and beautiful." The man lifted his head to look Loki in the eyes, a small smile playing at his lips. "What else have you noticed?"

"You acquire no need for gold." The prince stared back at the man, his face suddenly looking more attractive and kissable. Loki quickly disregarded those thoughts and continued, hoping that his talking would distract the man from whatever events he had planned. "You possess fine perfumes, and cloth of high quality."

Kortt bit his lips seductively as he purred his approval, his eyes predatorily studying the prince's face. "And what do you think I acquire?" He asked, his head dipping down to the prince's neck once more. Loki shook at the sensation it brought him, a dangerous feeling of pleasure and pure hatred. A hot tongue came in contact with the soft skin just below the prince's jawline, teasingly outlining an excitable dance. Loki tried to move away, but the obvious response in his own pants was making it harder and harder to run away from the pull inside him. The pull for that ruined sex.

"I-" Loki stumbled as those damned lips found their way to a very sensitive spot behind his ear, teeth combing over the flesh. "I think you wish for attention. Prove that you are better than my father by kidnapping his son."

Kortt hummed in disappointment as he pulled away from the prince. "Aw, you were doing so well." The man pouted, his bottom lip puckering out. "But there you are wrong, my prince." Kortt's hands slithered up Loki's prominent hips to cup around the boy's face. "I don't want attention." The man thrummed, his mouth coming down to hover just above the prince's lips before he growled, "I want you."

Kortt closed the gap between them. Loki immediately sealed his lips together, denying the kiss altogether, but when the other man's tongue slid against his bottom lip before quickly biting the pink flesh, the prince couldn't help but gasp. Kortt's tongue instantly moved into the boy's mouth, hungrily exploring every corner and crevice. Loki wanted to bite down; bite the damn fucker's tongue off. But he couldn't. The prince would never admit it, but no one ever treated him like this. Like a lover. And a small part of him liked it.

He didn't want to feel this way, not towards Kortt. Not towards any man, for that matter. But he couldn't help but it. He could feel _everything_. He felt Kortt's large strong hands fondling his leather clad cheeks and the tongue dancing inside his mouth.

"Stop." Loki choked out the moment Kortt pulled away from the kiss. He didn't want this. Not mentally. Nothing in the worlds mattered, for all Loki could wrap his mind around were the curious hands manipulatively groping his body and the tongue now expertly tracing patterns into his skin, leaving a burning trail of fire wherever it went.

The man on top of him didn't listen to his wistful plea. Instead, Kortt roughly kissed the prince, dragging his fingernails up Loki's arm and over his shoulder, his fingers intentionally brushing against the boy's hardening nipple. This action drew a honeyed moan from the prince, the throbbing between his legs intensifying.

With realization kicking in, Loki immediately attempted to jerk away, a deep blush settling on his cheeks. This could not be happening. Not to him. He squirmed vigorously, but with his wrists hung in chains and Kortt on top of him, the prince was trapped. Loki whimpered pathetically as he watched Kortt remove his shirt, revealing toned, tan skin and a nicely defined abdomen.

"You- You said-" Loki shakily began, his body trembling with an intoxicating mixture of fear and desire as Kortt tauntingly kissing the prince's jawline and down his neck. "That if- if my father-" The man moved down to Loki's chest, his teeth excitedly biting the hard pink nipple through the mesh fabric, sending stimulating tremors to the boy's pulsing cock. "Gave you money-" Loki weakly attempted to kick away his offender without success, his breathing beginning to come in hot short pants. "That you would not-" Kortt was now kissing the prince's flat stomach as his hands played with the rim of Loki's shirt. "Hurt me." Loki finally finished, his fingers desperately gripping at the metal cuffs digging into his skin. He turned his head to the side, tightly closing his eyes as waves pleasure washed over his body.

Kortt smiled up at the prince before grabbing Loki's shirt and tearing it open exposing flawless, alabaster skin. Just the sight of the young boy beneath him, squirming, panting, and pleading was enough to get an arousal out of him. "But there is no money here yet." The man smiled naughtily as he moved his head further south, biting down on the leather bulge between the prince's thighs and talentedly raking his teeth over the sensitive area. Loki jerked his body forward and threw his head back, a sickly sweet moan escaping his lips. "So I can do whatever I want with you."

Two large hands came up to play with the prince's hardened nipples as Kortt began to rock his hips against Loki's, both their clothed erections brushing together. "Pl- Please- stop thi- this." Loki pleaded, his voice coming out no more than a pathetic whimper, as Kortt started to remove the only piece of clothing the prince had left on. "I do not wish f- for this."

Kortt pulled the leather pants down Loki's hips, over his long superlative thighs, and off his legs, relishing how the prince hopelessly squirmed in protest. "You say you do not want this," Kortt said, hungrily eying Loki's newly exposed erection. "But your body says otherwise." The man smiled as he lightly touched the boy's arousal, causing the prince to buck up into his hand. Loki whined a needful whimper as hot breath fell on his throbbing member, a kiss coming to the head of his shaft.

Kortt then took that moment to slip all of Loki into his mouth, his tongue sliding along the underside of the prince's hardness. Loki's breath immediately hitched in his throat, his entire world stopping as he experienced teeth gently bite at his base and drag all the way up to his tip, where lips began hungrily sucking. "N- no! Sto- st- Ah!" Loki protested, as Kortt expertly moved his mouth up and down Loki's shaft, his tongue dancing along.

Never before had anything like this been done to the prince, leaving him inexperienced and sensitive. Loki violently shook his head, his body shivering with pleasure. He knew Kortt was trying to make him release. But he didn't want to. Not to this man. Not this way. Loki bit his tongue knowing the celestial sounds he was making was only encouraging the man on top of him.

"N- no, st- stop this." Loki trembled, his toes curling and his back arching off the bed. Kortt took the next moan that left the prince as a sign he was doing a good job and Loki was enjoying himself. Kortt moved his lips to the head of Loki's member a sucked roughly, running his tongue over the slit. Loki whimpered with pleasure as he tried to stay quiet. He didn't want this. Not one bit. _But everything felt so good_.

Kortt pulled his mouth away from Loki's shaft with a sickening string of pre-cum attached to his lip, earning a needy whimper from the prince. He could tell Loki was holding back. "What's wrong, my prince?" He mockingly asked as he slowly crawled up towards Loki's shimmering face. "Do you not want to come for me?"

Loki blushed madly, his head angrily shooting up to look Kortt in the eye. "I would never do such a thing for someone like you!" He spat, his member throbbing more than ever from the lack of the much-wanted attention.

"Oh?" Kortt challenged, his voice low and husky. "Then I won't touch it." The man evilly smiled, a glint of something flashing across his eye. "I won't give you the pleasure you so desire." Kortt moved his mouth next to Loki's ear, gently sinking his teeth into the silky skin. "And I'll make you beg for me to let you release."

Loki shuddered at the words, his body aching with want. He was sure whatever he had been drugged with was making him feel this way. And it was quite obvious Kortt was enjoying himself too. A large, swollen bulge was evident in his pants, making Loki gulp nervously. What if the pervert wanted to rut? Loki highly doubted he could fight him off, considering how restrained he was. But then he would be denounced. Everyone would know that the famous God of Mischief let another man mount him.

The sound of Kortt's pants being opened reminded Loki just how real this was. The man wasted no time in stripping himself of his clothes and grabbing Loki's divine thighs. The prince attempted to resist the man, his legs fighting to stay closed, but evidently the man pried open his thighs, his entirety now on open display for Kortt to see. "Damn." Kortt breathed, a smile gracing his lips as he gazed down at all of Loki.

And without a moments hesitation, the man's head bobbed down and a hot tongue flicked against Loki's pink, puckered hole, earning a mix between a gasp of surprise and a moan of pleasure. He knew Kortt was teasing him just enough to put him on the edge of orgasm, but not enough to push him over. The man took Loki's moans as a sign of approval and climbed between the prince's thighs, his member pulsing with excitement.

Kortt used a moment to look down at the panting boy beneath him, covered in sweat and trembling violently. Loki watched with scared eyes as Kortt whispered, "Goddamn, you're beautiful." And without another word, the man rammed inside Loki getting an ear piercing scream from the prince and a deep throaty groan from himself. He could tell Loki was obviously a virgin. The way the prince's hot, tight walls enclosed around him could have had him coming right there and then. But he held back, knowing he wanted to make this boy pay for denying him.

Loki intensely bit into his bottom lip, drawing blood as Kortt forcefully pushed deeper and deeper inside him. He was large. Very large. And Loki could feel his muscles ripping at the intrusion, blood beginning to flow out soak the sheets beneath him. The prince cursed as Kortt finally stopped moving, his member fully seated inside him. Loki squeezed his eyes shut, trying desperately to conceal the flood of oncoming tears. He could feel the throbbing want of the man's cock as it pulsed inside him, making him want to vomit at the disgust it brought.

Kortt didn't even give him a moment, before he pulled back out, his large member pulling Loki's body with him. Two hands came to the prince's hips, forcing him down on the bed as Kortt continued to pull out. The boy screeched in agony as overwhelming aches of pain filled him. He couldn't hold back his tears anymore and steady streams began to pour down the sides of his face, channeling to the sheets beneath him.

Kortt pulled the entire way out until just the tip of his member was left inside before he roughly pushed back in, slamming Loki against the headboard. The prince screamed in pain as Kortt repeated this process several times, each thrust coming easier and faster with Loki's own blood as lubrication.

Kortt roughly grabbed the boy's legs and pulled them higher, giving him a better angle to penetrate the prince. Loki cried his protest as Kortt hit deeper and new tissue was now being abused. "Fuck, Loki!" The man growled, his nails biting into soft, pale skin, leaving little red cuts littered along the prince's thighs. Kortt was being rough, and why wouldn't he? They were not lovers. Loki was just another plaything, something Kortt wanted to fuck. He had no reason to be gentle.

Loki whimpered again, it all was so painful, but deep down he felt a twinge of pleasure. It was the drugs. It had to be! Prince Loki, second son of Odin would never allow himself to be so defiled as to get any pleasure from this. But every now and then, a feeling of pleasure would roll through his body instead of pain. And a moan would escape his lips instead of a cry.

"Yes, moan for me, whore." Kortt grunted, his dirty breaths filling the boy's ear.

Loki clenched his teeth shut in both pain and pleasure to keep the sounds he was making inside. He would not satisfy this man by so easily handing him what he wanted.

But the man's teethy bites and scratching fingernails, the grunts of power and caressing hands, the steady thrusting going deep inside of Loki was becoming too much for the prince to handle. His erection was becoming painful to hold in and he needed to orgasm. Kortt sped up his rough movements, his groans becoming louder. "Beg!" He angrily ordered, and Loki knew he would not be allowed to have his sweet release until he begged the man to fill him.

Loki weakly shook his head, ignoring the now unbearable throbbing of his member as it bounced between them. He bit his tongue until he tasted the copper flavor of his blood. He would never stoop to something so low as begging. Kortt's hand suddenly came down and gripped Loki's neglected manhood, firmly squeezing it, instantly making Loki moan like a bitch in heat, his hips grinding up into the man's hands. "Beg, you slut!"

"Please! Ah- Please!" Loki cried, his drive for sex over running his shame. The tight grip around his manhood had him seeing white as waves of both pleasure filled him. He couldn't take it any longer. He had to release. Now.

"Please what?" Kortt demanded, his hand beginning to ferociously pump up and down on the prince's hard shaft.

"Ple- Please, fill me! Fuck me! Come inside me! Please!" Loki all but screamed. Kortt victoriously smiled before burying himself deeper inside the prince than he had ever gone before. The man let go of Loki's member and painfully gripped onto the boy's hips as he came with a great shout, shooting his hot seed up into Loki, directly hitting that sweet spot the prince didn't know he had. The steamy seed pulsing through his body, brushing against that bundle of nerves was all it took to send Loki over the edge.

Loki came hard, bucking his hips up into Kortt's member as he did. His fingers griped the chains tightly and pulled at them, blood seeping through open cuts along his wrists. His back arched off the bed as his head was thrown back, a long pleasure full moan leaving him, as his white liquid sprayed all over his chest. Loki collapsed wearily on the bed, all his energy spent, Kortt falling on top of him.

Loki's body shivered with delight of the after-glow of his release as they both laid unmoving, their heavy breathing being the only sound filling the room. He felt the bed shift and Kortt's soft shaft pull out of him with a sickening _pop_. It was then that Loki truly realized the gravity of what he had just done. Here he lay with a complete stranger, covered in unwholesome liquids belonging not only to the other man, but to him also. He had orgasmed. He had become just as dirty as the man fucking him into the sheets. And he begged for it, enjoying the heavenly pleasure it brought.

Shame overcame Loki and he quickly turned to his side, not paying attention to how the chains twisted his wrist above him, as a mouthful of bile rose out of his stomach, pouring onto the ground. The retched smell and the burning it left in his throat made Loki want to cry. Everything was too much. He just wanted to go home and take a long, relaxing shower.

But the strong arm coming around to grip his naked waist reminded him that he couldn't go home. He had to stay here, with this man. And do gods know what with him. He didn't know how long he had laid there, wrapped in Kortt's strong arms, but eventually Loki closed his teary eyes, trying his best to block out the foul smell of bile and sex, as he successfully attempted to drift into unconsciousness.


	7. Chapter 7

A soft melody of a bird singing outside the bedroom peacefully woke Loki from his sleep. He scrunched his eyes tight before opening them, lazily blinking away the morning blurriness. A warm aurora filled the room, practically begging the prince to fall back in to his dreamful sleep.

An arm draped around his waist shifted, pulling Loki closer towards the owner. The prince couldn't help but let out a supple smile as he leaned into the touch. Many a night had Loki fallen asleep in his brother's strong arms as the thunderer swore to protect him from the dangers of the night. And many a morning had Loki woken to find his brother keeping true to his word.

The prince sighed in satisfaction and let his mind float aimlessly back into the tempting trance of blissful slumber.

A knock sounded at the door.

Loki ignored it, not wanting to rouse from his comfort, but after no answer the knock sounded a second time, much louder than the first. He bitterly opened his eyes, thoroughly annoyed at the terrible timing. The boy sent a glance at the door but instead was met with the unconscious face of Kortt.

All air left the prince's lungs as he stared straight on at his attacker's face, their noses barely an inch apart. He instantly bit his tongue, resisting the urge to scream out his terror. Kortt, the man whom had hurt him so intimately, was curled up next to him, hugging his waist.

A third knock was heard, and the man lying next to the prince stirred in his sleep.

Loki winced in anticipation as Kortt growled lowly, his brow ruffling in confusion. A deep breath of relief escaped the prince's lips as his captor's features soothed as he fell back into his sleep.

Loki turned his head away from the man next to him and decided to look at the ceiling above instead. Even such a small movement sent a painful ache up his neck, spreading to his shoulders. He would have let out a groan if there had not been a sleeping defiler next to him.

With an experimental tug, the prince found the metal restraints enclosed around his wrist were as strong as ever and there was no hope of slipping them. A bold channel of sensitive flesh entirely wrapped around the boy's boney wrists, indicating where the cuffs had rubbed his skin raw.

That damned knock echoed through the otherwise quiet room again, this time waking Kortt. Loki flung his head to the side, his face out of view from the rising man. He shut his eyes in hopes he could fool his captor into thinking he had not woken.

Kortt groaned before another knock was heard. "What?" He angrily grumbled. A loud _creak_ spilled into the quietness and Loki presumed the door had been opened.

"Eh, Boss," A new voice spoke, almost making Loki open his eyes. "There's someone on the line. He, eh, wants to talk with ya." It was one of the men that worked for Kortt. Loki could tell by the sloppy accent and the poor choice of grammar that these men had not studied through much schooling but instead chose to spend their time elsewhere. Maybe when no one else would hire them for paying jobs, Kortt took them in.

"Alright." Kortt answered, his voice more awake, but still laced with dreariness. "I'll be right there." The door to the room then scraped shut, a long silence following.

The prince felt a supple shift on the bed and a warm hand come to the side of his face. He kept his expression cool as if he was still in slumber and took a deep breath, giving off the appearance of waking.

Loki blinked hazily, turning his eyes to the man hovering above him. Kortt smiled widely as he moved his hand to gently grip the prince's chin. The man leaned down and placed a tender kiss upon the boy's lips. Loki immediately jerked his face away, a scowl finding its way to his face.

Kortt's smile fell as he pulled back to look at Loki, his expression now matching the prince's. "You will meet me in The Square." The man grudgingly stated, shifting the ruffled blankets to the side and climbing off the bed. Loki couldn't help but scuffle his eyebrows in confusion. The Square? What was that? Was it a room? If it was then _The Square_ was a terrible name.

"You will not complain." Kortt slipped on his pants, buckling his belt in the front. "And you will not be late." The man looked the prince directly in the eyes, glaring his orders, before he turned and left the room, shirt and shoes in hand.

Loki then found himself staring into the empty air where his captor was just standing. Who was Kortt talking to? Why did he have to go to The Square? Why was nothing making sense?

His thoughts were distracted with the pounding of painful aches absorbed his head, matching the dull throbbing rhythm radiating from his abuse backside. The prince rolled his head back, allowing himself to close his eyes and drift off, purposefully ignoring his pain and confusion.

The sound of the doorknob jiggling woke him from his daydream. Loki quickly attempted to flee from the dirty bed, but the chains kept him in place, reminding him that he was still a prisoner in this dingy place. The prince quickly glanced around the room, looking for something to hide his shame.

A disgusting mix between his and Kortt's cum had crusted on his chest and between his legs, mixing with his dried blood. The crumpled sheets of the bed had been thrown to the ground when Kortt left and Loki sat naked, completely exposed.

The door opened, and Loki vainly crossed his legs, trying to preserve what little dignity he had left. Two large men, whom Loki recognized to be from the night before, entered the room, striding directly over to where Loki lay.

The prince, unbeknownst to him, was slightly trembling, his eyes never leaving the men standing above him. The two workers looked very much like the rest he had seen; tall, muscular, and dressed in dull colored clothing, mostly consisting of tans and browns.

One of Kortt's goons reached forward, scaring Loki into letting out a yelp. The trembling boy tucked into himself as much as he could, hoping that if he prayed hard enough they would go away. He squeezed his eyes shut, mentally preparing himself for the worst, but much to the prince's surprise, the man unlocked the chains that bound Loki's wrists. His deadweight arms fell down from their post, blood rushing back into his fingertips bringing about a tingling sensation.

Neither of Kortt's men said a word as they hauled the thin prince off the bed and to his feet, ignoring the boy's moans of pain. Loki felt his cheeks flush hot with embarrassment as he heard a hum of interest come from one of the workers, the man's eyes gazing upon the prince's naked body. It was only a moment later when both of the Loki's arms were seized and he was pulled towards the exit of the room.

"W- Wait." He sputtered as his feet dragged uselessly on the ground. "Where are you taking me?" The prince quickly asked as he attempted to gain his footing, but with every step he managed to take, the men holding him took three more.

"To bathe." Was all the man tightly gripping the boy's left arm said, his brown eyes never deterring from the path in front of him.

True to the worker's word, Loki found himself being led to the bathing chambers, where two men washed him much like they had before. The prince stood under the cold spray of the water, determined to ignore whatever was happening to his body. Ignore the cold water. Ignore the roaming hands and corrupt comments. Ignore the sharp pains coming from inside his abused body. Just ignore it all.

It didn't feel like long before the water was turned off and Loki was handed a pile of neatly folded clothes. By now, the young prince was adept at discounting the dirty smiles and perverted whistles as he quickly changed into his given clothes. Much to his discomfort, Loki was dressed in leather bottoms, giving him meager room to move. Perhaps the tight garment would suppress his pain enough for him to walk without a limp. Loki slipped on a dark green shirt, made of a soft fabric, and black boots, completing his outfit.

When he was finished, only one of Kortt's men grabbed his shoulder and led him out of the room. Loki forced himself to swallow the incessant desire to slap the man's hand away, limiting himself to grinding his teeth together instead.

The two of them walked down a twisting hallway until finally they stopped in front of a tall door. "Go inside." The man ordered, giving the prince's back a callous push. Loki looked upon the great door, figuring this was The Square. With closer inspection he noticed the small symbols carved into the wood's exterior. Meticulous lines and swirls crisscrossed each other forming bantam pictures and designs in the wood.

"Why?" Loki tentatively asked, turning his attention away from the wooden barrier and to the man standing behind him. "What is beyond the door?" When the worker didn't answer, or even look at the prince, Loki felt compelled to ask again. "Is it The Square?"

The man eventually looked towards the prince, scowling down at the younger, a look of annoyance evident on his features. "Go or I make you go."

"Tell me what The Square is!" Loki demanded, beginning to get very tired of being denied even the most basic of answers.

"Nothing good." The man growled angrily, his hands beginning to form fists by his side. "Now get your ass in there!"

The man's threat was clear as Loki turned back to the door, a pulse of fear appearing in the back of his mind. The prince knew it was better to follow the worker's command than to find out what the man was willing to do to make him enter through the mysterious door.

Loki took a deep breath of air, closing his eyes in precaution, trying to find a way to will his feet to move ahead.

The prince suddenly felt a hand come in contact with his shoulder, butting him forward. Loki's eyes snapped open as he barely managed to regain his balance at the unexpected occurrence. He glanced up at the barricade uncertainly once more before moving a shaky hand to the handle, his long fingers circling around the cool metal. He pushed down on the handle and an audible _click_ sounded, echoing off the walls of the dingy hallway.

Loki gave a moment's pause before he pulled. Vibrations jolted into his hands as the door began to groan in protest, unwilling to be opened. Loki pulled harder, bringing his free hand to grip around the handle, and putting his entire weight into the task. The wooden wall finally began to move and a loud screeching sound was made audible.

The door was heavy and it was taking all the thin prince had to move the panel at all. So when Loki had managed to crack an opening large enough for him to slip through, he stopped his efforts and released his grip, trying to catch his breath.

A chilled breeze blew from the opening, brushing against his pointed cheeks and combing through his hair. The air smelled of wet dirt and wild mammalian, making an unusual scent for indoors. The prince attempted to look into the room, which he had concluded was called The Square, but the room was murky and dark, cloaking whatever lay inside in shadows.

He felt another push to his back and it was decided that he had to enter the mysterious area. Loki cautiously maneuvered his way past the door, slipping into the cold wet air, the smell of dank soil slapping him in the face.

He took a few steps forward, knowing that with each passing stride he was getting further and further away from the door. His only way of escape. But Loki knew better. The man standing guard wouldn't let him exit the door. No, he would make him go back into the darkness with force.

Loki gulped down the nervous feeling growing inside him as he continued to walk forward through the thick darkness. But then seemingly out of nowhere, a dim light appeared off in the distance, illuminating a small area around it. A torch!

A flicker of hope filled the prince as he began running towards the light, not even taking a second to think of what the light could be. He just ran and ran, ignoring the burning in his lungs.

The light was becoming larger and as Loki neared closer, he could see that it wasn't a flame but it was, in fact, an opening in whatever room he had been in. A small cave like opening leading out into a golden world.

Loki sprinted faster than ever after seeing his escape. He could see the outside! He could see Asgard and all her beauty! He was going to be able to see his family and his friends. He would be able to tell them how much he missed their company and how much he wished to never leave their side again. He was free! He was finally free!

The prince didn't ever stop running as he passed through the opening, running straight out into the light. The brightness momentarily blinded him, but that did not deter his motivation. Loki took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the sweet fresh air he had come to miss so much.

Trees stood tall from the ground, bushes and leafy plants littered along the surface of the terrain. Birds chirped merrily up in the trees almost cheering the prince on. Loki expertly dodged the obstacles and continued to run full heartedly, not caring to examine his surroundings too closely.

That was until the trees began to clear and the plants stopped appearing was he met with a large stonewall. The prince ceased his movements, his heavy breathing begging to take its toll, as he looked up the wall.

Loki's entire world seemed to crumble inside him as the crushing feeling of realization hit him. The impenetrable wall reached up nearly twenty feet in height and was at least fifty in length. With understanding dawning upon him, Loki looked around to realize there were four identical walls (save for the opening he had come out of), all joined to make a perfect square.

_He was trapped in The Square._

"Welcome, my little prince," The booming voice of Kortt announced, coming out of nowhere and everywhere at the same time. "To The Square!" 

Loki's eyes rapidly searched the through the dense trees looking for the horrifying man, but found no sign of him anywhere. "Here," Kortt continued, his voice echoing off the giant walls. "You will learn to be a man."

Loki stepped backwards, trying to distance himself from the yard, but found he could go no further when his back made contact with the wall.

"The rules are simple."

Loki franticly whipped his head around, trying to find a way out, noting that the trees were not of enough height to climb above the wall.

"Stay alive."

Nor was the wall climbable. The prince's heart began to rapidly beat in his chest, as his mind rushed into panic mode. What was happening? He was trapped. There was no way out! What was he going to do?

"Hunt."

Loki's heart stopped in his chest, as a three bone-chilling howls were heard followed by viscous barking. Out of the corner of his eye, the prince saw two large dogs predatorily closing in on him, a third coming directly at him.

"Or be hunted."


	8. Chapter 8

Fuck. The first word that came to mind.

Three large grey wolves were stalking their way towards him. One from his left, one from his right, and one advancing directly at him. Thier size was tremendous, surely large enough to take down even the largest of cows with ease. He absentmindedly took a half step back only to be met with the damning stone wall.

The dogs snarled, baring their pointed yellow teeth at him. Loki had not failed to miss the way their blade like claws buried themselves deep into the soil with every step and the viscous look in their black eyes either.

A loud blaring horn sounded and all of a sudden the three wolves surrounding him bolted, running straight towards him. Five seconds. He had five seconds until the carnivorous beasts would devour him.

_Five._

He quickly looked for a weapon. A sword. A knife. Something. No, no, no! No weapon! Nothing but sticks and dirt.

_Four._

Escape! Run away! There has to be an escape! He searched all possible means of evading the approaching dogs, but found nothing. They're too tall, too big. They would catch him.

_Three._

Think! The wolves were coming in on him fast, their powerful jaws open and ready to bite. Distraction! Distract and then run! But how? What could be a distraction? No! No distraction! Nothing but death. I'm going to die!

_Two._

Wait! My magic. Ha! Oh, praise the Norns! Think. Concentrate! Loki balled his hands into fists, squeezing his eyes closed, and directing all his energy into summoning his seidr.

_One._

All three of the wolves pounced onto the boy, jagged claws ready to tear apart flesh, only to be ripped back by a powerful burst of energy. The dogs howled in pain as they hit the ground several yards away.

Loki hesitantly opened his eyes, his body still trembling with the aftershock of explosion of his seidr. He glanced down at his hands, ultimately surprised to have done such a powerful spell. To exploit such a massive amount of magic was an incredibly hard thing to do.

But the prince had no time to gloat as the three hounds began to get up, their animosity greater than ever. Think quick! Loki hurriedly glanced around at his surroundings.

Without even comprehending his rash decision, the prince took off running, his feet carrying him faster than he thought possible. He heard the cry of the wolves and their thundering steps following behind him.

Loki dodged between the trees, their density quickly thickening as he ran into the heart of The Square. Strayed branches and prickly bushes clawed at his skin as he whirled past them, ignoring the stinging pain as they cut open his flesh. All that mattered was to get away from the wolves. To survive.

Adrenaline coursed through his veins and his head pulsed with throbbing pain as he gasped to get more air into his lungs. He needed to rest. To catch his breath. But he couldn't. Couldn't stop. Just keep running.

An alarming sinister growl sounded and Loki swore he could feel the hot breath of the wild animals on his neck, threatening to end him. He picked up his speed, his mind insensitive to how his body was slowly breaking under the intense movement.

Dodge and weave. Brilliant! The prince abruptly cut his momentum, turning a sharp corner around a tree and running in an entirely new direction. He had not the time nor the courage to look back to see if the ferocious canines were still behind him.

Loki turned his direction again, neatly cutting across the trees with speed. He continued running, moving sporadically down a nonexistent path.

A sudden pain in the back of the prince's calf had him cry out in despair and slow his pace. Three razor like claws had sunken into his flesh, scraping their way down his leg. He screamed out his horror as the claws only sunk deeper into his muscle.

Despite the excruciating burning coming from his leg, Loki twisted back, kicking the jaw of the hound gripping onto his calf. The dog's head swung sideways from the blow, giving the sorcerer just enough time to push past his pain and take off running again.

His obvious new wound, combined with his old injuries and soreness from the night before, had taken their toll on the bruised boy. He tried to ignore his dilemma but his bleeding calf had not given up. Loki was forced to slow his run to a sprint for each step on his battered leg felt like a thousands tiny shards of glass bedding themselves into his skin.

The barks of the wolves became louder, nearing his location fast. The prince glanced around, weighing his options carefully. Run through the pain in his leg and risk getting caught or find a way out.

Find a way out. He immediately shut his eyes, his mind going directly to his source of magic. The familiar warmth of energy swirled beneath his skin, but it was faint, not enough for the spell he needed. Damn. Loki looked up, his eyes expeditiously scanning his surroundings.

No! No, nothing here. Nothing but trees! Wait. Trees! A smile almost appeared on the boys lips as he began racing as fast as possible with his stubborn limp.

It had not been a problem until now, but all the neighboring trees were void of low branches. Just his luck. Loki came to the nearest tree, looking up expectantly at the towering wood, hoping to find some easier way than what was appearing in his mind.

A piercing howl shrieked just behind him, reminding the prince he had not all day to think upon his problem. He quickly removed his shirt, throwing it around the base of the tree, and tightly wrapping the ends around his palms. Without a second thought, Loki pulled on the shirt and kicked his uninjured leg up, wrapping it around the scraping bark of the tree. He repeated the action with his other leg, lifting his weight completely off the ground.

He first moved his hands, slinging the shirt higher up the tree and then did the same with his legs. It hurt to put so much weight on his battered calf, but it was either this or be eaten alive by starving dogs. Loki clenched his teeth together in both pain and concentration as he slowly made his way up the tree.

A sudden uproar of snarls and growls were heard and much to Loki's fear, he looked down and saw the giant wolves just below him. The three dogs snapped and barked, their large jaws aching to rip him apart. The prince gripped tighter to the tree, climbing even faster than before. He was not far off the ground and he had a while of ways to go to reach the nearest branch capable of supporting his weight.

He moved his hands up. Then his legs. His hands. Then his legs. He slowly made his way up the tree this way, knowing that if he fell, it would be his end. The prince grunted in pain for each movement against the jagged bark cut his skin, making him bleed onto the wood of the tree.

Unfortunately, the scent of fresh blood made the hounds even more crazed, biting and clawing at the tree in a frenzy. Their giant paws pounded on the tree as they scratched and ripped open the base, showing just how strong the beasts really were.

Loki fearfully peeked over his shoulder, catching a glimpse of the wild animals. Long strings of drool fell from their murderous teeth and their eyes glinted with an uncontrolled fire. The prince instantly turned his attention back to the task at hand, wishing he had never even looked in the first place.

On the right, he was nearing a branch large enough to sit. Only a few more feet. Only a few more moments of pain filled climbing and then he could rest. He would be safe.

Loki crawled his way up the tree, inch by inch, until his goal was within reach. With much precaution the prince carefully slipped one of his hands out the end of his shirt, only to quickly bring the cloth to his mouth. He firmly bit down on the fabric, creating just enough resistance to keep his balance in the tree. With his very unstable position, Loki reached his free hand out towards the awaiting branch, attempting to latch his fingers around the limb.

A high-pitched shrill filled the air as the entire tree began to shake with violent trembles causing Loki's arm to slip. A fearful yelp came from the prince as he hurriedly struggled to keep his balance. The three hounds had begun to ram into the base forcing their entire strength into the tree.

Loki groaned in pain as his muscles began to shake with overuse, his body struggling to hold up his weight. He reached out his arm again, desperately trying to grasp onto the taunting branch. Aches of pain trembled through his body as his head spun. His labored breathing had not ceased and his vision was beginning to blur on the edges.

The very tips of his fingers grazed the edge of the branch, filling him with determination. He shook his head, forgetting about his discomfort, and reached again but was met with the same result. An idea bloomed in the prince's head, causing a flicker of something akin to elation warm his mind.

Loki removed the portion of shirt from his mouth, clasping it in his hand once more. With both his hands now helping support the pressure, he ever so slightly began to shift his weight to the right. He moved his hands and the shirt to the left causing his upper body to move in the opposite way. He shimmied his legs around the tree, moving his torso closer to the branch with each motion.

His horizontal movements collided with the vertical bark, shoving jagged splinters of wood into the prince's arms and thighs, instantly drawing more blood. However, Loki didn't stop. He slowly continued to move to the right, each movement getting him closer and closer to his destination. But he didn't have time for slow movements. His muscles ached and he realized couldn't hold himself up much longer.

Loki groaned in anguish as a new theory hit him. He did not know if his idea would work, but it was the only chance he had. Giving himself mental leeway, the prince counted to three before jerking his whole body to the side, throwing his entire body off the form of the tree.

Everything felt like slow motion as Loki jumped; his body ripping through the air. He threw his hands perilously towards the branch, hoping that if anything good were to happen to him today that it would be this.

And just as Loki was ready to accept his fate, the palm of his hands came in contact with the wooden limb. Instantly he clasped his hands around the branch, his body hanging helplessly below.

The barking of the dogs never ceased as Loki dangled above them, his feet just out of reach from their impressive jaws. His hands stung with strain as his weight landed entirely upon them.

A sudden nip at his foot had the prince frantically trying to pull himself up onto the branch. He looked down to the wolves jumping, nearly clamping their razor like teeth onto his feet each time. With an unexpected burst of tenacity, Loki curled his hands tighter around the branch and bent his arms.

His muscles screamed at him in protest as he shakily began pulling himself up onto the branch. The moment his forearms could reach, he quickly hugged the wood, leaning his chest over the branch and kicking his legs up. Loki scooched his way up the limb until he came to the where the branch connected to the whole of the tree.

He rotated his body until his back leant against the tree, his legs stretching out before him. A whole new flood of pain hit him as he finally had a chance to rest. His heavy breathing came in gasps as he struggled to get the much needed air into his clenched lungs. His bleeding leg, full of splinters, felt as if it was on fire, burning a hole through his flesh.

And after a moment of comprehension, a small laugh of astonishment escaped Loki's lips. Another chuckle left his lips and another and another until he was plain out laughing uncontrollably.

Did he seriously just run from a pack of wolves, actually kicking one in the face, and then proceed to climb a tree with just his hands and legs, then entirely jump off the tree onto one of the branches, barely managing to pull himself up as wolves below bit at his ankles? Man, no one would believe this story.

Finally having a moment to properly think, the prince inspected his leg. Three large claw marks had slit through his pants and into his skin, trailing the entire way from the back of his knee the just above his boot.

In an experiment, Loki touched one of his fingers to the openly bleeding wound. He instantly recoiled his hand, hissing in pain as a shockwave of poignant torment travelled up his leg.

His thumb brushed over the tattered fabric in his hand, a solution forming inside his mind. He unravelled his hand from what used to be his shirt, but was now nothing but a beat up piece of cloth, and tore it up into five shreds. Placing a hand under his injured calf, Loki positioned his leg at such an angle so it was easily accessible.

The prince took three strips of cloth and began wrapping his leg in various spots. He had not enough bandage to cover his entire leg, so he had to settle to just binding the deepest part of his wound. He then took the remaining strips and tied one on each of his blistered hands.

A tired sigh came from the boy as he finished his work, leaning back against the tree. Loki tilted his head to the side to gaze down on the angered wolves who were barking manically below him, and he couldn't help but let a goofy grin slip. The wolves howled and barked ruthlessly at him but had no way of reaching him. He was safe.

Or so he thought. Just as the prince was about to praise the Norns, that deafening horn blew again. It nearly startled Loki from his tree. The horn seemed to blow for an unnecessary amount of time before it went out, leaving complete silence.

The lack of comotion was a strange feeling and Loki carefully listened, straining his ears for any noise. He peered down towards the ground, fully expecting to see three grey wolves but was surprised to find nothing there. Nothing but the forest floor.

His suspicions grew as the woods slowly became eerily quiet; not so much as even a cricket chirped. His own unnerved breaths filled the air as he moved from his sitting position to his feet, his hands wrapping around the branch for balance as he crouched in the tree.

A chilling breeze ruffled the leaves on the numerous trees as the atmosphere drastically began to fall in temperature. The once summer air was now dropping to a crisp condition and the rays of sunlight randomly piercing through the holes in the canopy of trees were beginning to turn dark.

Darkness? But it was daylight a few moments ago. Midday Loki would have guessed by the placement of the sun. But the unmistakable chilling air and the quickly fading sunlight said otherwise.

An owl hooted ghoulishly, breaking the heavy silence. Loki hectically searched for the bird, but the darkness had become so dense the prince could barely see the tree branch beneath him.

A howl sounded in the distance. Probably one of the wolves. But wait. He was in The Square. There was no distance. Everything was trapped inside the towering walls. How did the wolves get out?

None of this made sense! How did he out run the wolves? Where did they even go? Why would they leave him? And where did the sun go? Why was it suddenly night? Where was th-

Realization suddenly dawned upon the prince. He absentmindedly shook his head, mouthing the word 'No' as his questions began to answer themselves.

"This is not real." He whispered.


	9. Chapter 9

"None of this is real." He repeated to himself, his voice barely above a whisper. The wolves, they were nothing but his imagination. But how? How is that possible? It's not.

The owl hooted again, bringing the prince from his thoughts. But there was no owl, was there? Loki shook his head, too many confusing ideas floating through his mind. He examined the area around him, now taking notice of how perfect the forest looked.

The terrain smelled of dirt and grass, and just the right amount of fallen leaves coated the forest floor. Bushes and shrubs were impeccably placed in the correct places, and the berries hanging from their branches were flawlessly fashioned.

Loki glanced down at his leg. His injuries surely were real. He could _feel_ the pain. So was everything real? None of this was making sense! Was this a dream? He had never experienced such a realistic dream before. But that didn't mean he wasn't dreaming.

The prince shifted his grip on the branch supporting his weight, moving his hands to wrap around the wood. He then proceeded to slide his way off the branch until his body hung from the tree. Without a second thought, Loki dropped from the branch, his feet coming in contact with the ground.

A small "oomph" came from his lips as a jolting feeling of pain sped up his leg. Loki leaned off his injured leg as he looked around him. The trees were all evenly placed apart from each other, reaching the exact same height and width. The only difference between them were the branches which hung at different heights.

Everything seemed so - perfect. Why? What was happening? Where was he? "None of this is real." He repeated louder. Loki quickly spun around, looking for something that wasn't so flawless and perfect, only to come up empty handed. "This is not real!" He shouted to the sky, his voice cracking at the sudden strain.

His voice echoed off the walls, repeating his declaration back to him. He panted heavily as a cold wind blew against his cheek. An eery silence was the only thing to answer him back. Where did everything go? The birds, the insects, the wolves. What happened to them?

Suddenly a shrieking noise blared. Loki instantly covered his ears, the uneven tone blasting unbearably loud. It only sounded for a moment, and when the boy uncovered his ears, a ringing echoed in his head.

"Well done!" A booming voice abruptly shouted, causing Loki to startle. He hastily looked around him, his adrenaline kicking in. "You have passed."

Loki spun around, franticly trying the locate to voice. It sounded as if it did not have a source, but he knew better. The voice belonged to Kortt. He could tell.

"Show yourself!" Loki ordered. He didn't know where it was coming from or even where to look, but he kept his confidence, not letting his fear slip into his expressions. He began walking through the forest, his limp creating a very evident hinderance.

"There are rumors of your intelligence." The voice continued, acting as if Loki had never spoken. "I wanted to test that for myself."

The prince felt his hands ball into fists. What was Kortt talking about? What rumors? Loki continued limping through the forest, walking towards the closest wall. He had a plan.

"So I set up a little stimulation. A little game." Kortt's voice laughed, causing a wave of pure hatred to push through the prince. A game? Did Kortt think almost killing him was all just a sick game?

"How?" Loki growled, his body violently beginning to shake. Was it with pain or anger, the prince never did find out.

"Gas." The voice simply answered. So Kortt could hear him. "There was a chemical in the tunnel you walked through to get here."

Smart. Loki would have to give him that. But not as smart as him. Kortt said so himself; Loki was smart. He could find a way out. He had to. The boy neared the towering wall, a large gate shutting off the only exit in The Square. "It was all fake." Loki stalled, inspecting the thick bars of the closed gate.

"Why Prince Loki, I am so glad you figured that out." The tone of Kortt's voice had Loki imaging that disgusting smirk on the bastard's face. "Otherwise you would be in a very bad condition."

"But the wolves weren't real." Loki argued, taking a moment to actually ponder his captor's words. If nothing was real then why would he be in bad condition? That didn't make sense.

"Oh, but you didn't know that." The voice mocked. "Everything seemed so real to you, didn't it?" A small silence filled the air as Loki glared up at the sky. He didn't even know if that was were Kortt's voice was coming from, but it just felt right. "You would have driven yourself crazy and eventually would have worn out your body until you dropped dead from exhaustion."

A small growl rumbled in the back of the prince's throat. This man was barbaric! How could he do something so terribly awful? But Loki bit his tongue; he needed to find a way out before anyone could reach him. He placed his hands on the bars, giving them a slight shake. "But you did not know I would figure out your puzzle." Loki spoke, trying to buy as much time as he could.

"That's what made it a game." Kortt answered. Amusement was evident in the way the man talked and it sickened Loki. The prince removed his hands from the bars of the gate when he found them to be very sturdy. "And you made quite an entertaining show."

Loki moved his palms to wrap around the underside of the metal and put all his strength into lifting up the bars. A sudden hissing noise had the prince glance behind him. A purple smoke had begun to overflow from the tops of the walls, speedily cascading to the ground. "You might want to hold your breath." Kortt laughed as Loki frantically attempted to lift the gate.

The smoke had begun to fill the air, quickly making it harder and harder to see. He dismally coughed as the thick smoke filled his lungs. But he wouldn't give up. Loki continued to try and force the gate to open up, but the bars would not budge.

His eyes began to sting as he gasped for air. Smoke surrounded the boy, filling The Square with its poisonous chemical. The boy continued to cough, choking on the smoke as his attempts at freedom became weaker and weaker. It was only a moments waiting before Loki dropped to his knees, a hand clutched to his chest, as he plummeted into unconsciousness.

OOOO

"Fuck!" The man groaned, gripping Loki's bony hips even tighter as he thrusted into the prince's tight hole. The other man heavily pounding into the teenager's mouth responded with a lustful moan. Hot tears warmed the back of Loki's eyes as he desperately tried to keep himself from gagging at the intrusion forcing itself down his throat.

Despite the extreme discomfort and the harsh ways his body was being used, the prince let his mind wonder to how he had come to this.

It had been four years. Four years of pure torture. Loki hardly even remembered what life was like back in the palace. He remembered the palace being huge and golden. And he remembered running through the wide hallways with his brother. But what did his brother look like? What was his name? Loki couldn't remember. All he could remember was that **he was Loki**.

The prince barely remembered the night he was taken. Kortt, who had beaten the boy into calling him Master, had referred to that night as the day Loki was rescued. Rescued from his own family.

But Loki had fought. He fought every moment of every day. He would not stay in this dingy place where he didn't belong. He tried to escape. He tried, but he was too weak. Every time he escaped, strong men with no shame would catch him and drag him, kicking and screaming to Kortt.

It had been so long since Loki had any contact with his family. It wasn't until a year after his capture, did Loki finally get an answer from his Master. Master had said that Odin didn't "negotiate with terrorists." That Odin wouldn't pay the money for his freedom. That Odin didn't love Loki. That he had forgotten all about him. And Loki believed him.

After that, it didn't take much to force the prince into submission. Before he had hope. Hope that his family was looking for him. But they weren't. They forgot about him. His life was here now, giving pleasure to whoever wanted it.

And so for the past three years, as Loki matured, he had been trained, beaten, and raped. Kortt had took the teenager's intelligence to his advantage, training the prince in speed, agility, and tactic rather than brute force like most other Aesir.

And Loki flourished. He had become adept in the art of stealth, using his skills and magic to bend the shadows to his liking. And he had become even more skilled in trickery. He could weave lies as golden as the sun and could speak them without stutter. It was truly a marvelous gift. The prince had gotten Kortt out of many sticky situations with his words alone.

But the teenager's looks were what everyone loved the most. Even though Loki had become older and trained as a warrior, the prince was still thinner than all others. He had strong arms and a firm stomach, but compared to the men he sparred with, he was nothing. Loki wasn't allowed outside, for fear of him running away, and because of this his skin was silky white without blemish. His raven hair had grown a considerable amount, the loose waves falling just below his shoulders, giving him a very seductive appearance. He was quite the talk of the men.

In all four years Loki had been in captivity, he had never seen one woman. Not one. But the men had to relieve their stress and desires somehow, right? Naturally they flocked to Loki, but Kortt had been very protective of his little prince. He didn't want to share his toy.

Eventually the other men offered to pay to have a night with the teenager. It didn't take much convincing to get Kortt to agree. Loki had begged his Master to keep him to himself. He rather be violated by one man, not hundreds. But Kortt didn't listen. As long as Loki was in his bed by the end of the night, any man was allowed to have their way with the prince.

And right now was one of those moments. "You fucking whore!" The stranger at Loki's back growled, giving a harsh slap to the teenager's pale cheek. The prince arched his back in pain, his nails fiercely digging into the mattress beneath him. The man in his mouth laughed, "You love this!"

It took everything in the prince to not bite down on the flesh between his teeth. He breathed deeply through his nose, keeping his mouth slack as the man's cock forced its way down his throat. He had grown accustomed to having a penis shoved up his ass twenty-four seven and he had learned to deal with the roaming and pinching hands, but what Loki absolutely _hated_ was sucking another man off.

His mouth would always ache and his throat would bruise. It was just a terrible experience. And there had been oh so many times the prince had thought about just biting off the dick in his mouth. But he knew better. Loki knew from previous nights that Master would do so, so much worse if he ever found out, which he would. Master always finds out. And Master loved punishing his little pet.

"Clench." The man behind Loki ordered, taking a handful of the teenager's ass into his hand and squeezing it painfully. "Make yourself tighter around me."

Loki obeyed his command, compressing his walls even tighter around the cock in his ass. The man groaned, thrusting even faster, until hot seed shot into the prince's hole. Barely a moment later, the member in his mouth twitched and sprayed its own seed down Loki's throat. Both men let out a satisfied sigh before pulling out.

Immediately the prince rolled away from them, wiping any extra cum that leaked from his mouth. Tears were in his eyes, but he would not cry. The first time he had been used so brutally he cried. But that was four years ago. He had grown up. He had learned not to show weakness.

He slid off the bed, quickly finding his pants laying absentmindedly on the floor. One of the men on the bed sat up, his eyes landing on the prince. "Wait. We're not done with you yet." Between heavy breaths, the man reached out to grab the wrist of the hurrying teenager.

"N- no." Loki calmly said, forcing his face to remain stoic. That familiar salty taste burned the back of his throat and he wanted nothing more than to throw up the unholy substance. "It is nearly midnight. I must be back to Master by midnight."

"No, you ain't leavin' yet." The same man argued, sitting up on the bed. "We bargained a hefty price for ya ass and we gonna get what we paid for." The man reached again to pull the teenager back onto the bed but Loki carefully stepped back, twisting his body out of reach.

The man voiced his protest as he barely missed the prince. It took all but a few seconds for Loki to grab his pants and run out of the room. Angry shouts from both men were heard as the teenager ran full force down the hallway. By now he had mentally mapped the tunnels; every twist, every turn, and every possible way of escape for times like these.

Loki easily turned the corner and slipped into a large gap in the wall. It was large enough to fit him but small enough no one would think to look at twice. And just like he calculated, the two naked men ran right past him four seconds later.

Loki then took his chance and slipped out of the hole in the wall, running the opposite direction of the men. He knew it was late and if he didn't make it back to Master in time it would be one hell of a night. With pants still in hand, the prince ran the entire way back to his Master's chambers, not once stopping to take a breath.

He slipped into the room, praying Master had not come back yet. The prince's eyes looked straight to the clock. Damn. The time read twelve o' two. He hadn't made it. It was past midnight.

Loki quickly glanced around, seeing a perfectly made bed and untouched food on the table. Good. Master truly had not been back yet, which meant that Loki was free of punishment. Master would never know. A unexpected creaking of a door sounded just behind the teenager, followed by the clicking of the door shutting.

_But Master always knew._

"You're late." Kortt growled.


End file.
